https://www.instagram.com/chris_too_smoove/

Chris Smoove, 479 Port Reading Avenue, New York, NY (2026)

02/24/2026

Did you know that if a dog smells your parts it’s po…See more

02/24/2026

Did you know that waking up at 3 or 4 in the morning is a clear sign of…see more

02/24/2026

They locate the body of the young daughter of… See moree

02/24/2026

Figure Skating Star Dies after she was struck by … See more

02/24/2026

😱😢Girl had to be hospitalized for wanting to use a pe...See more

02/24/2026

I helped an elderly couple fix a flat tire on the highway… and a week later my mom called me screaming:
“STUART! How could you not tell me?! Turn on the TV — RIGHT NOW!”
I’m a single dad to my seven-year-old daughter, Emma. Her mom left when she was three, so it’s been just us ever since. Holidays can feel complicated with just two people, but my parents always find a way to make Thanksgiving warm and loud and full of love.
That afternoon, Emma and I were driving to their house. The first snow of the season was falling softly, dusting the highway like powdered sugar. Emma was in the backseat swinging her boots and humming Christmas songs way too early.
Then I saw them.
An older couple stood on the shoulder beside a beat-up sedan.
The tire was completely flat.
The man was crouched by it in thin gloves, looking overwhelmed.
The woman hugged her coat around her, gray hair whipping in the wind.
They didn’t just look cold — they looked worn out, the kind of tired that goes deeper than weather.
I pulled over immediately.
“Stay buckled, sweetheart,” I told Emma.
The couple started apologizing before I even reached them.
“Oh goodness, we’re so sorry,” the woman said. “We’ve been out here almost an hour… we didn’t want to ruin anyone’s holiday.”
I shook my head.
“You’re not ruining anything. Let’s get you moving.”
My hands were numb from the cold, but I got the jack up, pulled the spare out, and had it on within fifteen minutes.
When I tightened the last bolt, the old man stood up slowly and gripped my hand like he couldn’t let go yet.
“Thank you,” he said, eyes shining. “You didn’t have to stop. You and your little girl… thank you.”
I smiled, wished them safe travels, and went back to my car. Emma beamed at me from her seat and gave a proud little thumbs-up like I’d just won an award.
We made it to my parents’ house, ate too much turkey, laughed, cleaned up, and life rolled on.
I honestly didn’t think about that couple again.
Then a week later, I was packing Emma’s lunch when my phone rang.
Mom.
I put her on speaker. “Hey, everything okay?”
Her voice came out sharp and breathless.
“STUART! How could you not tell me?! TURN ON THE TELEVISION. RIGHT NOW!”
My stomach dropped.
“What? Mom, what are you talking about?”
She didn’t answer — just repeated, louder:
“TURN IT ON!”

02/24/2026

My husband threw me out with nothing after inheriting $75 million, convinced I was dead weight. But when the lawyer reached the final clause of the will, his smug grin vanished—replaced by sheer panic.

We were married for ten years. Ten years during which I—Vanessa—gave everything I had. I wasn’t just his wife. I was his anchor, his constant presence, and for the last three years, I was his father’s full-time caregiver.

My father-in-law, Arthur, was a real estate giant—a self-made man who built a seventy-five-million-dollar empire from the ground up. But money doesn’t scare cancer. When Arthur became ill, his son—my husband, Curtis—was suddenly “too busy.” Too many meetings. Too many golf games. Too many friends who loved hearing themselves talk. He said watching his father decline was “bad for his mental health.”

So I stepped in.

I cleaned Arthur when he was sick. I listened to his stories when medication blurred his memories. I read the paper to him every morning. I held his hand when fear crept in during the dark hours. Curtis would show up occasionally, perfectly dressed, to pat his father’s shoulder and casually ask, “Did he mention the will today?”

I didn’t want to see the cruelty. I told myself Curtis was coping in his own way. I called it love.

I was wrong.

The day Arthur died, my world collapsed. I had lost someone who had become family. But for Curtis, it was as if life had just begun. At the funeral, he cried—beautifully. Perfect tears, dabbed away with a silk handkerchief, while his eyes calculated the wealth of the men standing beside him.

Two days later, the truth surfaced.

I returned home after arranging cemetery details, exhausted and hollow. My suitcases sat by the door, sloppily packed. Clothes spilling out. Shoes scattered.

“Curtis?” I called out, confused.

He came down the stairs, glowing. No black clothes. No grief. A crisp shirt, an expensive watch, and champagne in hand.

“Vanessa,” he said smoothly, “it’s time we went our separate ways.”

I stared at him. “What are you saying?”

“My father’s gone,” he replied lightly. “And I’m the only heir. Seventy-five million dollars. That changes things.”

“It means responsibility,” I said quietly.

He laughed.

“We?” he scoffed. “There is no ‘we.’ You were useful when Dad needed care. A free nurse. But now you’re just excess baggage. You don’t belong in the life I’m about to live.”

The words crushed me.

“I’m your wife,” I said. “I cared for him because I loved him—and because I loved you.”

“And I appreciate that,” he replied, tossing a check at my feet. “Ten thousand. Payment for your services. Now leave. I want you gone before my lawyer gets here. I’m renovating. This place smells old… and so do you.”

I begged. I reminded him of our years together. It meant nothing. He called security.

They walked me out into the rain while he watched from above, sipping champagne.

That night, I slept in my car outside a 24-hour grocery store—ashamed, shattered, questioning how I’d given ten years of my life to a stranger.

Three weeks passed. I searched for cheap housing. Signed divorce papers. He wanted me erased quickly so he could enjoy his fortune without inconvenience.

Then the summons arrived.

PART2 IN THE FIRST COMMENT 👇

02/24/2026

My husband got my best friend pregnant when I lost my baby — karma had a "GIFT" for them on their 1st anniversary.
________________________________

I'm 29F, and I swear I still feel the aftershocks.

My husband, Camden, was the "steady, safe" type. My best friend, Elise? A human disco ball — loud, shiny, impossible to ignore. Both were my whole world.

When I got pregnant, Elise cried harder than I did. Bought baby socks before 12 weeks. Held my ultrasound photo like it was holy.

Then at 19 weeks, I lost the baby. And something inside me just… cracked.

Camden cried once, then turned into a ghost. Elise stopped coming over. Her excuse? "It hurts too much to see you like this." She didn't show up ONCE.

Six weeks later, she texted: "BIG NEWS!!! I'm pregnant!!! Come to my gender reveal!!! ❤️"

I threw up. Literally.

At the party, everything was pink and blue and fake-smiley. Elise hugged me too tight and whispered, "Wow… you don't look depressed anymore."

Camden disappeared into the crowd.

During her little speech, Elise talked about "second chances" and "unexpected blessings" — then she locked eyes with Camden. I still didn't get it. God, I was so blind.

I stepped outside to breathe.

And through the window, I saw them.

In the hallway.

His hand on her stomach.

Then he kissed her — familiar, practiced, DEVASTATING.

I stormed in. Elise clutched her belly like I was the threat and whispered, "We were going to tell you… Camden's the father."

My marriage died on the spot.

They moved in together two weeks later.

Months passed. Silence.

Then Camden's sister, Harper, called me last night, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

"Oakley… have you heard?! This is BIBLICAL!"

My stomach dropped.

"What happened?"

"YOU NEED TO SIT DOWN," she gasped.

My blood went ice-cold.

"Harper. What happened?"

She inhaled shakily.

"So, here it is:" Continue reading⬇️⬇️⬇️

02/23/2026

🚨 Warning for all KFC lovers , KFC will shut down all...𝗦𝗲𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲

02/23/2026

Police find girl missing since 2022: ‘She was n... See more in comment

02/23/2026

🔥 BREAKING NEWS JUST 5 MINUTES AGO! Tommaso Cioni — the husband of Savannah Guthrie’s sister and son-in-law of Nancy Guthrie — has just been taken into police custody for...! 👇👇👇

02/23/2026

🛑Young woman d!es at the hands of her... See more

Chris Smoove

02/24/2026

02/24/2026

02/24/2026

02/24/2026

02/24/2026

02/24/2026

02/24/2026

02/24/2026

02/23/2026

02/23/2026

02/23/2026

02/23/2026

Address

Website

Alerts

Contact The Practice

Shortcuts

Featured

Share